Another week, another masterclass in political theatre from Villa Somalia. The stage lights dim, a single spotlight hits the podium, and a solemn decree is read: The Federal Government of Somalia severs ties with the United Arab Emirates. Cue the dramatic music, the murmurs of geopolitics, the swirling analysis in foreign capitals. But in the wings, two crucial actors stand frozen, scripts in hand, mouths agape. Their names? Puntland and Jubaland. Their line? They don’t have one. They weren’t given a part in this particular scene.

The plot, as it unfolds, is a farce of such staggering audacity it would make Mogadishu water-fetching donkeys blush. Here is a decision with tectonic implications: slamming shut a door to a nation that has been a primary investor in infrastructure, a key security partner in the fight against Al-Shabaab, and a critical economic lifeline for regions outside the Mogadishu bubble. And it is taken with the consultative grace of a royal decree in an absolute monarchy. The “F” in “FGS,” it seems, stands for “Figment.”

Let’s dissect the grim comedy. The UAE’s footprint is not centralized in the marble halls of Mogadishu. It is in Bosaso’s port, critical to Puntland’s economy and fighting against ISIS in Calmiskaad Mountains. It is in training and equipping Jubaland’s security forces, who are dying on the front lines against extremists every day. To cut this cord without so much as a courtesy call to Garowe or Kismayo is not merely an oversight; it is a blatant declaration that the lived realities, economic survival, and security of millions of Somalis in these states are disposable collateral in Mogadishu’s grand, solitary political calculations.

So, we must ask the question that the architects of this decision clearly consider irrelevant: Why on earth should Puntland or Jubaland comply?

The federal compact—that delicate, painstakingly negotiated idea etched into a provisional constitution—is not a suicide pact. Its core logic is shared burden, shared benefit, and shared decision-making on matters of national consequence. What, pray tell, could be more national than the abrupt alienation of a major Arab power whose influence and investment are hyper-localized in the very regions not consulted? This isn’t federalism; it is a colonial administration dressed in the cheap suit of a government, treating constituent states as recalcitrant provinces to be managed, not partners to be respected.

The message from Mogadishu is now crystalline: “Your investments are ours to obliterate. Your security partnerships are ours to annul. Your economic futures are ours to gamble. And your role is to applaud our sovereignty from the cheap seats.”

Well, here’s the twist in the script that Villa Somalia didn’t anticipate: you cannot build a nation by consistently telling half of it they don’t matter. You cannot demand loyalty while offering only contempt. You cannot preach unity from a podium of isolation.

Every unilateral, destabilizing move of this nature is not an assertion of federal authority; it is an excavation of its own grave. It is a signed affidavit to the people of Puntland, Jubaland, and every other emerging state that Mogadishu views the “federal project” as a one-way street: their resources, their men, their territory are federal concerns, but their voices and their existential interests are not.

The result? A predictable, self-inflicted wound. The fragile, tactical cooperation against Al-Shabaab—which depends entirely on trust and shared purpose between centre and periphery—is poisoned. Investment dries up, not in Mogadishu’s secure enclaves first, but in the regions that needed it most. And the already-gaping chasm of mistrust widens into a permanent geopolitical rift.

Perhaps that is the ultimate, tragic satire. In a desperate bid to project strong, centralized sovereignty to the outside world, Mogadishu has performed a powerful pantomime of its own irrelevance to the internal dynamics that actually determine Somalia’s fate. They have proven, yet again, that the greatest threat to Somali stability is not always in the thorn bushes of the Shabelle, but too often behind the high walls of the capital, where the illusion of control is mistaken for its reality.

The curtain has fallen on this act. The audience in Puntland and Jubaland is not applauding. They are walking out of the theatre, and discussing, in very serious tones, whether to build their own.

The Recognition That Broke the Dam

On December 26, 2025, a diplomatic bombshell shattered three decades of careful, if uneasy, consensus in the Horn of Africa. Israel became the first United Nations member state to recognize the breakaway Republic of Somaliland as an independent, sovereign nation. In the streets of Hargeisa, this was celebrated as a historic, long-overdue victory. In Mogadishu, and across the chancelleries of the world, it was seen for what it truly is: a reckless and self-serving act of geopolitical arson that has placed a tinderbox region on the brink of a multi-front conflict.

This is not merely a diplomatic spat. This is the story of how a single, calculated move by an external power—driven by its own maritime security agenda against Houthi rebels and a desire to counter Turkish influence in Somalia—has triggered a chain reaction that threatens to unravel Somalia’s fragile statehood, empower a deadly terrorist insurgency, and draw the entire Red Sea corridor into a devastating proxy war. The fuse is lit. The powder keg is Somalia.

Mogadishu’s Hammer Falls, and the Regions Defy

Faced with what it rightly terms an “existential threat” and a “flagrant assault” on its sovereignty, the Federal Government of Somalia was left with no choice but to respond with maximum force. Its target: the United Arab Emirates (UAE), which Mogadishu and analysts believe facilitated the Israeli move and has long been accused of cultivating influence in Somalia’s breakaway and autonomous regions at the expense of the central state.

On January 12, 2026, Somalia’s cabinet severed all agreements with the UAE. The annulment was total, covering the lifelines of port operations, security cooperation, and defense partnerships in Berbera (Somaliland), Bosaso (Puntland), and Kismayo (Jubaland). This was a declaration of economic and security war against a powerful patron, and a desperate bid to reassert federal authority.

The response from the regions was instantaneous and defiant. Somaliland dismissed Mogadishu’s authority as “daydreaming,” staunchly affirming the UAE as a “trusted friend”. The autonomous Federal Member States of Puntland and Jubaland, already in a bitter political feud with Mogadishu over constitutional changes, are poised to openly reject the federal decree. For them, the UAE is not an interloper but a crucial provider of investment, security training, and a counterweight to Mogadishu’s overreach. Somalia’s federal system, a fragile construct at the best of times, is now facing an immediate and possibly irreparable rupture.

The Great Gulf Rift Spills Over

The crisis has violently crystallized a broader, more dangerous fault line splitting the Horn of Africa. The region is no longer just managing its own conflicts; it has become the primary chessboard where a fierce rivalry between Gulf powers is being fought.

On one side stands the emerging “Axis of Secessionists”—an alliance of convenience between Israel and the UAE. Their strategy is networked and subversive: bypass central governments to back de facto independent entities and separatist movements. Their partners include Somaliland, the Southern Transitional Council (STC) in Yemen, and the Rapid Support Forces (RSF) in Sudan. This axis prioritizes strategic footholds and commercial ports over state sovereignty.

Arrayed against them is a pro-sovereignty bloc championing the inviolability of borders. This camp includes Somalia’s federal government and its key backers: Turkey (which operates a large military base in Mogadishu), Qatar, Egypt, and significantly, Saudi Arabia. Riyadh’s alignment with Mogadishu is pivotal, marking a stark and growing divergence from its traditional ally, the UAE, and placing it opposite Israeli interests.

The Real Winner: Al-Shabaab

Amidst this high-stakes geopolitical maneuvering, only one actor is guaranteed to benefit: the terrorist group Al-Shabaab. Israel’s recognition has handed them a propaganda windfall of unimaginable value. They have swiftly reframed the crisis as a “Zionist invasion” and a “crusader project,” allowing them to rebrand from mere insurgents to defenders of Somali sovereignty and Islam.

This narrative is catastrophic for Somalia’s security. The government’s attention and resources are now catastrophically diverted from a hard-fought counterinsurgency to a national political crisis. As one analyst grimly noted, hard-won gains against Al-Shabaab risk unraveling as security fractures and public disillusionment grows in newly liberated areas. The potential for a strategic convergence between Al-Shabaab and Yemen’s Houthi rebels—who share an anti-Israel, anti-UAE agenda—creates a nightmare scenario of a unified militant front spanning the Red Sea’s shores.

A Continent at Risk: The Precedent of Fragmentation

The repercussions echo far beyond Somalia. The African Union’s bedrock principle since independence—uti possidetis, the sanctity of colonial borders—has been blatantly challenged. If stability and effective governance (arguments made for Somaliland) become grounds for recognition, it sets a dangerous precedent that separatist movements from Nigeria to Ethiopia will be watching closely. As Slovenia’s representative at the UN warned, foreign interference “does not arrive only with tanks and missiles,” but in quieter, equally damaging forms. This is a quiet assault on the entire post-colonial African order.

The Path Forward: From Spiral to Dialogue?

Several futures are now possible, most of them grim. The most likely is a managed stalemate: Somaliland gets symbolic Israeli recognition but no cascade of followers; Somalia remains distracted and weakened; Al-Shabaab regroups. More dangerous is strategic escalation, where a major power like Ethiopia, hungry for sea access, follows Israel’s lead, fracturing the AU and splitting the Horn into hostile blocs. The least likely but most catastrophic scenario is open military conflict, with Somalia attempting to blockade or retake Berbera with the help of its partners like Turkey, Egypt, Saudi Arabia, and Qatar, drawing in external powers and causing global trade through the Bab-el-Mandeb Strait to seize up.

There is only one path back from the brink: an immediate cessation of external interference and a return to Somali-led dialogue. The international community, particularly the U.S., must unequivocally support Somalia’s territorial integrity and pressure all parties to de-escalate.

The nations of the Horn are not pawns. Their people are not collateral damage in someone else’s great game. The message to Tel Aviv, Abu Dhabi, and all other external actors must be clear and unified: Take your proxy war elsewhere. Let Somalia heal itself, or watch as the flames you ignited consume the region and burn you all.